"There are plenty of heathen in New York, Mr. Hemstead. You found one of them in me, and see how much good you have done; at least, I hope you have."
"There are also plenty of Christians in New York to take care of them. I commend some of the heathen to you."
"I fear that they will remain heathen for all that I can do."
"No, indeed, Miss Marsden. Please never think that. No one has a right to say, 'I can do nothing,' and you least of all. Apart from your other gifts, you abound in personal magnetism, and almost instantly gain control of those around you."
"How mistaken you are! I have no control over you."
"More than you think, perhaps," he said, flushing deeply.
It was his heart that spoke then, and not his will, instructed by deliberate reason.
She too blushed, but said laughingly, "What are words? Let me test my power. Take a church in New York, instead of a thousand miles out of the world."
"You are not in earnest," he said, a little sadly. "You would not seek to dissuade me from what I regard as a sacred duty?"
"But is it 'a sacred duty'? There are plenty of others—less cultivated, less capable of doing good—in the refined and critical East."